


3 times Kevin Price had a hell dream, and one time he didn't

by eating_custardinbed



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: 3 things actually, 5+1 Things, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, arnold is an angel, hell dreams suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed
Summary: "Seeing Elder McKinley give Hitler a blow job wasn't a sight anyone wanted to particularly see"No smut, contrary to what that suggests XD





	3 times Kevin Price had a hell dream, and one time he didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a horrible person, and for the bit for Spooky Mormon Hell Dream and based off the show because, y'know... Okay, I'm gonna stop talking now, enjoy this. Oh yeah, this includes a little headcanon about Kevin that I thought about because idk.

**1.**

Kevin hadn't mean to lie, really. 

Mummy and Daddy told him that lying was bad. They told him that lying made Heavenly Father sad. Kevin didn't want to make Heavenly Father sad, but when Daddy stood in the living room in front of all 5 of the Price siblings, holding up the empty donut box and demanding to know who had eaten the very last maple-glazed donut, something snapped in the little boy's brain. 

Now, one key thing to know about Kevin was that he was, at the time, the baby of the Price family. He was only 5 years old, and was what his parents often referred to as  _the perfect little Mormon boy._ He shared a room with his 7-year-old-brother Jack with no complaints, he sat quietly in church and he was incredibly intelligence. Kevin would often be believed above all of his siblings, which was a key part of his sneaking down into the kitchen at the dead of night to eat said donut. 

Kevin hadn't realised the consequences his actions would bring. In a moment of panic, the small boy, with his adorable lisp, blurted out: 

"It wath Jack!" 

Kevin's father stopped, turning to his youngest son. Slowly, he knelt in front of the small boy, giving him a reassuring smile. 

"How do you know?" he asked. 

"He woke me up when he came back in," Kevin replied confidently. He didn't feel very confident, but he had a way around adults. 

"Thank you, Kevin," his father said, standing up. "The rest of you can go. Jack. Kitchen." 

Kevin felt his bottom lip start to tremble as Jack trailed after their father, and the others started to leave. He was rooted to the spot, listening to Jack being yelled at for something he hadn't done. The oldest of the siblings, Nancy, stuck her head around the door and saw Kevin with tears in his eyes. 

"Kev, it's okay," she said softly, coming into the room and pulling her brother into a hug. Kevin snuggled towards his 15-year-old sister. "Daddy won't be mad at Jack for long." 

"I don't like it when Daddy shouts," Kevin sniffled. Nancy picked him up, balancing him on her hip before moving towards the kitchen. 

Jack was stood at the foot of the kitchen table, looking guiltily to the floor as their father paced the kitchen. Their mother wasn't far behind.

"AND ONE MORE THING-"

"Dad, stop shouting, you're scaring Kevin," Nancy hissed. Michael Price fell silent, turning to look at his daughter and son. His face softened, and he took Kevin in his arms. 

"I didn't mean to scare you, little man," he whispered. Kevin nodded. He didn't realise he was crying until his father's strong thumb stroked away the tears. "Hey, hey, c'mon. No tears, buddy. How about you go with Mummy to the store? Maybe she could get you a special treat for telling the truth?" 

Tears gone, Kevin nodded happily and scampered out of the front door with his mother, leaving Jack to be disciplined by Michael. 

888888

By the time bedtime came around, Kevin had all but forgotten about the whole donut fiasco. He'd put his pyjamas on, brushed his teeth, quietly read a few passages of scripture, said his prayers, and his mother had tucked him and Jack in, kissing them on the head before turning the light off. 

Kevin lay staring up at the white ceiling as he did every night. 

"Psst." 

He closed his eyes as he did every night. 

"Hey." 

He thought of Disney as he did every night.

"Kevin!" 

Sighing in a world-weary sort of way, he opened his eyes. 

"What?" he hissed back as quietly as he could. They weren't supposed to speak after lights-out. Daddy said it was good practice for their mission. 

"Why'd you lie to Daddy?" Jack asked. 

"I didn't," Kevin replied stiffly, his heart seizing. He wasn't lying, right? He was just denying it, that wasn't lying! 

"Daddy says liars go to hell," Jack said matter-of-factly. "Have fun in hell, Kevin." 

Kevin turned on his side and studiously ignored his brother until he fell asleep. 

Now, spooky hell dreams, as Kevin was to discover fourteen years later in Kitguli, Uganda, were scary enough for an adult, so imagine having one for the first time in your  _very_ young life after being taunted by your brother and having no goddamn idea what was going on. 

If he were honest, Kevin didn't really remember the specific details of his dream, only that it started out like a Disney movie and turned terrifying enough for him to wake up screaming and crying at two in the morning. 

Mr and Mrs Price had five children, number six on the way, so they were both pretty light sleepers anyway. They both woke up to the sounds of their youngest's screams, took one look at each other and immediately bolted down the corridor, fearing the worst. 

Sandra Price got to her son first, kneeling by his bedside and gathering him up in her arms as she tried to wake him up. 

"Mummy?" Jack's scared, tiny voice came from the other side of the room. "What's wrong with Kevin?" 

Michael rushed in as he hastily tied his dressing gown and snapped on the light, dropping to his knees by his wife. When he heard his son's harrowing screams up close and saw the sweat beading on his forehead, his face blanched. 

"C'mon, baby, wake up," Sandra murmured. All of a sudden, Kevin's eyes snapped open, and he managed to take a terrified look at his mother before he burst into noisy tears, collapsing into her shoulder. Sandra held him close like she used to do when he was much younger, whispering comfortingly in his ear. Jack's inquisitive eyes shone out across the room, landing on Kevin's bed. 

"Kevin wet the bed!" he shouted gleefully. This did  _not_ help the situation. Michael went even paler, if that was possible, and Sandra froze. They were both back in that hospital room, watching their tiny son surrounded by tubes, wires and nurses and being told by a forlorn doctor that there was a possible chance of their child not surviving the night. 

"He-he must be ill," Michael stammered, stroking his son's soft brown hair. Kevin had now reached the point where he'd been crying for so long that he was hiccuping and gasping for breath. Michael gently placed the back of his hand on Kevin's forehead. He pulled away sharply. "He's burning up." 

"Kevin, honey, it's okay, it was just a dream," Sandra soothed. "You're working yourself up, you'll make yourself sick." 

Kevin looked up at her with small, scared, vulnerable brown eyes, and something shattered in Sandra's heart, just like it did every time something happened to one of her babies. 

"I did a bad thing..." Kevin wailed. It took his mother a moment or two to realise what she thought he was talking about. 

"Oh baby, no-one's mad at you because you wet the bed," she cooed. "No-one's mad at you, I promise." 

"I think we'd best get you changed, buddy," Michael said, sweeping his son's hair away from his eyes. "Then you can come and sleep in Mummy and Daddy's room, okay?" 

Kevin sniffed hard and nodded. 

888888

He didn't go to school the next day, but he still woke up when all the others did. He was tucked up in Mummy and Daddy's  _massive_ bed- at least it felt that way to him-, a basin on the floor "just in case," Daddy said, and a cool rag on his forehead. 

When he says woke up, he means he starting paying attention to what was going on around him. He hadn't slept again since he'd woken up sobbing in his mother's arms. 

His first visitor was Nancy. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he managed to put on a smile for her, like at school when somebody said something particularly stupid and he had to force himself to smile to stop himself from being impolite. 

"How're you feeling?" she asked, her voice low. Kevin was grateful for that. The beginnings of a headache were just starting to pound at his temple. 

"My head hurtth," he admitted. "Did Mummy and Daddy thay you could come in here?" 

"Can't I check up on my baby brother?" she said teasingly, ruffling his hair gently. "Have you had some Tylenol?" 

He shook his head, which inevitably aggravated his headache. Tears welled in his eyes again, despite the fact he thought he'd cried himself dry the night before and he blinked them away, but not before Nancy saw. She gave him a sad smile and a quick hug. 

"I'll go and get Mum," she said, kissing him on the top of the head before going off to find their mother, leaving Kevin alone. 

Normally, Kevin didn't mind being alone. It meant some peace and quite, some time to reflect on what he'd learnt at church or to be able to say his prayers without having the other children in his class laugh at him and steal his special prayer book Grandma had given him. However, in his frankly horrific ordeal last night, he'd been left completely alone in his dream and was now subsequently scared to death of being on his own. He curled himself into a ball, getting as small as he possibly could as short flashbacks of a sea of red and a horned monster came back into his vision. He whimpered just loud enough to be heard as his mother came back into the room with the Tylenol. 

She rushed to his side, pulling him into a tight hug. He snuggled into her, hanging onto her like a limpet and breathing in the precious smell of her cinnamon tarts and the perfume that even now clung to her. 

"Oh, Kevin, baby, what are we going to do with you?" she murmured. He giggled a little. 

"I wanna go to thchool," he said. Sandra leant back, looking her son in the eye. 

"You know you can't go to school if you're sick," she replied. 

"But what will I do all day!?" he wailed. It didn't help his headache, which all of a sudden intensified. Sandra noticed his wince and took the opportunity to change the subject, shoving some Tylenol down Kevin's throat and carrying him downstairs with her. 

He was half-asleep as they entered the kitchen, where the rest of the family was eating breakfast. The older siblings, Nancy and 12-year-old Micah, looked at their baby brother with concern, whereas 9-year-old Rosie and Jack continued to play with their oatmeal. Michael Price was at the head of the table, tiredly reading the newspaper whilst idly chewing on a slice of toast. He looked up when he heard his wife enter. 

"How is he?" he asked, referring to Kevin. 

"I've given him some Tylenol but he's still very hot," Sandra replied, taking the cloth off of Kevin's forehead. The small boy's head drooped again as soon as his mother's supporting hand was gone. "I think I'll stay off work today and take him to the doctor's later." 

Jack, meanwhile, was taking great pleasure in whispering something to Rosie. Rosie gasped and giggled, turning to Micah and whispering in his ear. Micah made a face and whispered to Nancy, who glared at Jack and whispered something to their father. Michael swatted Jack on the head with his newspaper. Not hard, just hard enough to make his point. 

"You will not talk about your brother in that way!" he hissed. Jack rubbed the back of his head and nodded meekly as Kevin yawned heavily. "Do you think you two will be okay on your own or do you need me to come home early, Sandra?" 

"The older two can help me with all the after-school stuff," Sandra said. "Right?" 

"Um, sorry Mum, I've got lacrosse practice tonight," Micah said, getting up and dumping his cereal bowl in the sink. 

"I'll help you, Mum," Nancy said, kissing Sandra on the cheek before ruffling Kevin's hair and moving upstairs to brush her teeth. 

Kevin Price decided right then and there that he was going to be the perfect Mormon no matter what it took, if it avoided hell dreams. 

**2.**

To be fair to himself, he had had a pretty tough few days. 

In the space of less than 48 hours, all of Kevin Price's perfect Mormon ideologies, where everyone was happy and loved God unconditionally, were shattered by two men with guns, a one Mr Mafala Hatimbi and a very angry warlord with an intense hatred for the clitoris. On top of all that, the missionary training centre had stuck him with the clingiest, most annoying mission companion possible, and he was pretty sure his incredibly cute District Leader was having gay thoughts for him. Just the cherry on the sinful cake, eh? So perhaps one could excuse him for having a slight tantrum when he had just watched someone get shot in the face and had their blood splattered all over him. 

He was thoroughly convinced that he was in Orlando. He remembered storming to the bus station after cleaning all of the blood off of his one shirt, but he didn't really remember much else. 

"It's funny... I don't even remember the plane ride..." he said to himself. 

Then all hell- literally- broke loose. 

Skeletons, Lucifer, fire, a tap-dancing Elder McKinley in a hella cute red top, Genghis Khan, Jeffery Dahmer, Hitler, Johnnie Cochrane, Jeffery Dahmer fucking his father, a huge-headed Arnold Cunningham... seeing Elder McKinley give Hitler a blow job wasn't a sight anyone particularly wanted to see... coffee, maple-glazed donuts- was there anything his hell dream didn't contain? 

He begged for forgiveness, but the torture came from every angle, until the minions of Hades spun him around after declaring the  _spooky Mormon hell dream done_ and he collapsed into darkness. 

When he opened his eyes, it was because he could feel a soft hand on his cheek, gently tapping, and a voice coaxing him awake. He shot up, panting heavily. 

"Where am I?" he managed to heave out, looking around wildly. 

"It looks like you passed out at the bus station," Elder Davis said anxiously, glancing at Elder McKinley. 

"We were so worried!" Elder Church chastised, sounding a bit like a disappointed parent. 

"Oh, I'm, I'm sorry that I had a little, uh meltdown, last night," Kevin babbled. He was mostly focusing on McKinley as he said this. "But I'm not leaving!" 

The Elders broke into small noises of approval. "Yeah, I realized... that I was... That was wrong, and I'm gonna stay here aaand stick to my work!" 

"Oh," Elder McKinley said knowingly, smiling a slightly smug smile. "You had the Hell dream, didn't you?" 

Kevin looked down at the ground, embarrassed. "Was I in it?" 

He was saved from answering that question by Arnold Cunningham. 

**3.**

Being excommunicated was working out a lot better than any of them had expected. True, there were a lot of angry phone calls from parents, and Kevin  _still_ hadn't told his parents about having a book shoved up his ass, much to Elder McKinley's displeasure. 

In fact, Kevin hadn't really done a lot since scaring the General away by telling him that Jospeh Smith torpedoes were going to turn him into a lesbian. He'd retreated into his and Arnold's shared room, only coming out for the occasional meal and for a refill of coffee. 

"You realise he doesn't sleep, right?" Arnold said offhandedly one day at breakfast whilst the Elders were discussing the issue. Poptarts almost dropped his poptart and Elder McKinley choked on his toast. 

" _What!?"_ McKinley spluttered once Church had finished pounding him on the back. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

"I didn't think it was that serious!" Arnold exclaimed. McKinley- Connor, he kept having to remind himself that they were referring to each other by their first names now- tugged at the hem of his loose cotton t-shirt, a welcome change from the old days of scratchy shirts and stuffy temple garments. "I mean, he sleeps sometimes! It's just... I think all the stuff the General did to him comes back to him when he does." 

"He should really tell his parents," Neeley remarked. "I mean, they were fine with him  _abandoning_ his mission, I'm sure they'll be fine with this." 

"See, that's where you don't understand," Arnold said, his voice getting louder with every word. Connor shushed him. "Sorry. He's scared to tell them because he doesn't know how they'll react." 

Connor swallowed the last of his toast, wiping the crumbs from around his mouth and standing up. The chair scraped loudly on the floor. 

"You all know what you're doing today," he said. "Arnold, come with me." 

"Aw, but I was supposed to see Nostradamus!" Arnold whined. Connor gave him a glare that could've killed Satan and he shut up, trailing dejectedly behind his District Leader, following him back to his own room. 

Connor took one last look at Arnold and knocked softly on the door. He heard a a soft gasp from inside the room, and a scrabbling of bedsheets. 

"Kevin, can I come in?" Connor called gently. 

"Um, gimme a minute!" Kevin shouted back, sounding desperate and rattled. There was some more rustling and then the door opened a little to reveal a disheveled Kevin Price. 

He didn't look good. He had huge bags under his eyes, his skin was pale and mottled and his usually perfect hair was limp and greasy. He had clearly just got very hastily dressed, and even though it must've been almost 100°F in the hut, he was wearing an old hoodie that he'd found at the market and a pair of joggers. 

"Sorry to be so rude, Elder McKinley, but what exactly do you want?" Kevin said, making Connor realise that he was staring.

"Connor," he blurted. Kevin raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm sorry?" he said. 

"I meant you can call me Connor," Connor explained. "Um, I was just wondering if you'd like to come and help me teach some of the children in the village. I remember you telling me you love kids." 

"Sorry, Elder Mc- Connor, sorry, but I think I'll sit this one out," Kevin replied apologetically, going to close the door. Connor stopped him by putting his hand in the gap between the door and the wall. 

"C'mon Kevin. You haven't been out of the hut in nearly 2 weeks!" he exclaimed. "You love kids, you told me yourself!" 

"I'm just not feeling up to it," Kevin said, going to close the door again. 

"Look, if you don't tell your parents about what happened, I'll tell them myself!" 

Kevin stopped short, his face draining of all colour. Arnold gave a theatrical gasp, reminding Connor that he was there at all. Great. He had a witness who could probably testify that Connor McKinley had indeed made Kevin Price cry. 

"Connor, please, you can't tell them," Kevin begged, his hands trembling as he clasped them in front of his chest. "You  _can't._ They'll freak out, they'll, they'll, they'll..." 

Kevin had to stop and sit down on the edge of his cot, putting his head in his shaking hands. Connor came into the room and sat tentatively next to the taller man. Kevin immediately leant into Connor's warmth. 

"What did they say when you told them the mission was shut down?" Connor asked as Arnold came in and plopped himself down on his own bed. 

"They told me as long as I was helping to make people's lives better, I was still doing the work of Heavenly Father because he must've intended for this to happen," Kevin answered, a small smile spreading on his face. 

"So maybe you'll make your own life better if you told them so they could help you," Connor said gently. Kevin was silent for a few minutes before he sniffed hard and nodded. 

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, maybe so." 

Connor gave him a supporting smile. 

"You know where the phone is," he said, squeezing his arm lightly. Maybe to show he understood. Maybe to have just some form of physical contact with him, however small. He wasn't sure. 

Kevin gave him a small grin, tentatively rolling up the sleeves on his hoodie. His arms were red and shiny with sunburn, and.. were those scratch marks!? 

"I-I can still feel them," he said quietly. "They won't go away." 

"Oh Kev..." Connor gasped. "So you've scratched at your arms, thinking it might make them go away?" 

Kevin nodded miserably. "Sweetie, you need to talk to someone about this?" 

"I wouldn't mind talking to you about it," the brunette said shyly. 

Connor smiled wider than ever and nodded. 

888888

That night, Kevin lay in his bed with his arm thrown over his bare stomach. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of boxers, the Ugandan heat proving too much for him to stay in actual  _clothes_. Connor had ushered everyone out of the kitchen so Kevin could use the phone in peace. The whole thing had ended in a lot of tears, a promise of absolute understanding and his parents actually buying plane tickets to Uganda to see their son- they weren't arriving for another 2 weeks. 

14 days. That's all he had. Well, technically he had 16 days, because sure, they would get into the  _country_ in 14 days, but then there was the 2-day bus trip from Kampala. He'd call them again tomorrow and tell them about that. Still, it seems like nothing when you're having a deep sexuality crisis over your District Leader. 

All his life, it had been instilled into Kevin that homosexuality was wrong. The stigma surrounding the issue was internalised by now, and every time he caught himself having- ahem,  _explicit_ thoughts about Connor McKinley, he had to mentally slap himself in an attempt to stop. 

"Bestie?" Arnold's voice cut through the thick silence. Kevin visibly started, twisting his head to look at his companion. 

"Yeah?" he whispered. He wasn't sure why, most of the rules had been abandoned, especially the whole stupid curfew thing. 

"You doin' okay?" Arnold asked. 

"Why do you ask?" Kevin snapped back. It came out harsher than he was expecting. 

"I'm just worried about you, buddy," Arnold replied, seemingly unphased. Kevin managed to relax a little, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "You haven't been... y'know, the best recently." 

"Arn, I was never the best," Kevin said dryly, his voice devoid of all emotion. Arnold shook his head. 

"Well, you're the best best friend anyone could ask for, so there, that's one thing!" he exclaimed. 

"Arnold, I'm a shit best friend and we both know it." 

Arnold fell silent for a few minutes, and Kevin assumed that he was done talking, rolling back over, curling into a ball and staring at the cracked wall. 

"I think you're good," Arnold finally said quietly. Kevin managed a smile. "But you never actually answered my question. You okay?" 

"I'm alright," Kevin said. 

Just another lie to add to his pile of sins. 

Somehow, even with the ten tonne of coffee coursing through his bloodstream, he fell asleep somewhere around midnight. That's when the hell dream started. 

As was the pattern with hell dreams, it started out okay. 

_The first thing he felt was the sand between his toes. It was warm and pleasantly dry, sliding across his feet. Opening his eyes, he realised he was lying on a towel overlooking the sea. The air with thick with brine, and then Kevin was aware of a person lying next to him._

_He looked over almost fearfully. Of course, it was Connor McKinley. Asleep. Shirtless. Okay, so yeah, Kevin knew what a sleeping, shirtless McKinley looked like, but that was only because Connor had fallen asleep on the sofa one night when Kevin had got up to get coffee at 2.a.m. He was damn cute. He was more muscly than his clothes would let on, and he looked so peaceful in his sleep, all the stress of the day gone, his red hair flopping in his eyes rather than slicked back with God-knows what. He was even more adorable than he was normally._

_And he was pretty damn adorable normally._

_Kevin allowed himself to smile as Connor's eyelids fluttered, opening soon after. The redhead gazed up at Kevin, a dreamy look in his eyes._

_"You should smile more," he said. Kevin took a moment to assess the situation, then he leant down and pressed his lips to Connor's._

But it soon turned to absolute shit. 

_The idyllic beach scene quickly disintegrated into the familiar backdrop of Satan's lair, and Kevin almost had to contain a sigh at the predictability of it all. A couple of skeletons grabbed his arms, and he didn't even bother to resist as he was dragged up to Lucifer._

_"Well well well, Kevin Price," the devil proclaimed, tutting a little as if disappointed. Disappointed about what? Kevin didn't know, it could be a million things. "Fancy seeing you here so soon!"_

_"Let's just get the whole torture thing over with," Kevin replied tiredly. "I'm exhausted."_

_"I thought we'd switch it up a bit today," Lucifer said. Kevin was about to offer up a sarcastic comment, but then Satan snapped his fingers and a metal cage sprung up behind them. Kevin whipped around to see Connor pawing desperately at the bars, his beautiful freckled face bloodied and bruised. The brunette couldn't contain his gasp- or his rage._

_"Okay, what the **fuck**!?!" he screamed, turning back to the devil, who was grinning malevolently. "What even gives you the  **right** -" _

_"This is your punishment," Lucifer cut in. All of a sudden, bonds, thick ropes than required a knife to saw through them, bound themselves around Kevin, effectively rooting him to the spot. "This is what your sinful thoughts do. Watch."_

_Knives appeared above Connor. Kevin's eyes refused to move as Connor looked up, and then to Kevin in utter fear._

_The knives plunged down._

_Kevin let out a scream as the knives made contact with Connor's skin, slicing through it like it was butter. There was blood everywhere, on Kevin, on his shirt, all over Connor's face, his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes were glazed over, he was dead, he was dead and it was all Kevin's fault..._

"Kevin James Michael Price, c'mon, do not make me go and get Gotswana!" 

Kevin's eyes snapped open and he found himself panting heavily, his skin slick with sweat and Arnold Cunningham hanging over him, surrounded by light like the prophet he was regarded as. 

"I regret telling you my middle names," was the first thing that slipped out of his mouth. 

To Kevin's surprise, Arnold began to laugh with seeming relief, sitting down on the other bed. It was then that he noticed Connor loitering in the doorway and remembered he was only in his underwear.

He grabbed a blanket off of Arnold's bed, quickly covering himself up. Arnold pulled the blanket back, much to Kevin's dismay. He made a small noise, looking at his best friend beggingly. 

"No," Arnold said with a surprising amount of force. "You're too hot as it is." 

"We could hear you screaming from the other side of the hut," Connor said quietly from the doorway. Kevin looked over to him, self-consciously crossing his arms across his chest. Now he thought about it, his throat felt very raw, burning almost. 

"Sorry if I woke you up," he whispered, his throat not up to much more. 

"Don't worry about it," Connor replied. "Hell dream?" 

"What else?" Kevin said dryly, trying to sit up. He managed to prop himself up on his elbow before he went back down, almost hitting his head on the headboard. Arnold reached over and helped him sit up. "Thanks, Arnold."

"Guess it was a pretty bad one," Connor said. "I don't usually scream that bad after mine." 

"It was pretty awful," Kevin agreed, rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Do you wanna... talk? About it?" 

Very briefly, Kevin considered telling Connor everything, divulging his feelings, but self-consciousness quickly took over. He shook his head. Connor smiled supportively, reaching over and snapping off the light. 

"Try and sleep, okay?" 

Kevin nodded, but know it was never going to happen. 

**+1**

Sweat was already starting to drip down the back of his neck, and he'd only been standing at the bus station for 5 minutes. 

It had been over two weeks since Kevin's particularly horrible hell dream, and he'd been having them every night since. Each time was worse than the last; he was often lucky if he got two or three hours of sleep. Right now he was running on an hour and a half and a gallon of coffee alone. 

Of course, Connor was stood next to him, leaning against the whitewashed walled with his hands in his pockets. He'd abandoned his dark slacks and starchy dress shirt, having instead donned a pair of salmon pink shorts, a white polo and some sandals. His red hair seemed to shine in the sun, devoid of any product and falling naturally in his eyes. He was watching Kevin- who was studiously avoiding his gaze and whistling an ABBA song absently- intently, tilting his head to the side a little. 

"So, your parents, eh?" Connor said nervously in an attempt to break the ice. It didn't work: it was like taking a plastic spoon to the Antarctic permafrost. 

"Yeah," Kevin replied. Awkward tension quickly filled the air, but a welcome distraction arrived in the shape of the worn-down bus trundling leisurely down the dusty old road towards them. They let out simultaneous sighs of relief. 

The bus pulled up and groaned to a stop in front of them, the doors creaking open. As per usual, there weren't too many people on the bus, but the two knew almost everyone and ended up taking a few minutes to chat to Kali and Kimbay about the new school building. They said their goodbyes and then Kevin's parents appeared out of the bus. 

Mrs Price immediately threw herself at her son, hugging him tightly. Kevin hugged back: he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed them until now. Connor stood respectfully to the side, now resuming a less casual position. He looked as if he was a soldier ready for inspection. 

"Hey," Kevin whispered as his mum leant back, taking him in. 

"You look peaky," she said, her face clouded with concern. "Are you eating enough?" 

"I'm fine, Ma," Kevin replied, chuckling. Michael Price came forward and clapped his son on the shoulder. His hand stayed there for a few seconds, and he seemed lost in thought before he pulled Kevin into a hug. 

"You have to be careful, son," Michael said once they broke apart. "You know how easily you get sick." 

"Really, I'm okay!" Kevin laughed, taking some of his parents' bags. He caught sight of Connor and his face split into an even bigger smile. Somehow looking at Connor was making him feel better about lying to his parents. "Oh! Mum, Dad, this is Connor McKinley, former District Leader and current Mother Hen of whatever monster we've created here." 

Connor shook their hands. Mrs Price-  _"call me Sandra, dear_ \- had a lighter handshake, more friendly and warm. Mr Price's was firmer, and he fixed Connor with a gaze that seemed to say  _are you the one in charge of the care of my son?_ Connor quickly looked to the ground, taking some of their bags as they began the ten-minute trek back to the mission hut. 

"So, Connor, I sure hope our Kevin hasn't given you too much trouble," Michael said jovially, clapping the redhead on the shoulder. Connor laughed gently. 

"Well, he has his moments, sir," he replied, trying to be as respectful as possible. "But he's alright. Except for belting out Disney songs in the shower, he's an absolute bugger for that." 

"Shut up, I heard you join in with  _Under The Sea_ yesterday," Kevin shot back. The small group roared with laughter. 

Connor noticed how Kevin was so much more relaxed around his parents. All the stress, all the pain just seemed to melt away from his face and he seemed almost... happy? Was happy the right word? Joyful fit his expression much better, Connor thought. 

It was just small talk until they reached the hut. They were in the middle of a conversation about Connor's middle-school play when the two missionaries saw the glitter in the distance and stopped. 

Someone had told Arnold. 

Connor and Kevin looked at each other in alarm. Mr and Mrs Price could tell something was up, glancing between the two and sharing a look. 

"Something wrong, boys?" Michael asked. Connor cleared his throat, letting Kevin have his mini-freakout in peace and turning to the older couple. 

"Somebody told Kevin's- um- rather  _excitable_ mission companion that you were coming when they shouldn't have- I  _bet_ it was Poptarts- so he's gone all-out. There will be a lot of glitter, a lot of hugging and a possible musical performance from a bunch of eager Africans," Connor explained. Michael and Sandra looked at each other and promptly burst out laughing. Sandra went over and gave Kevin a small shake. 

"Oh, you silly boy, stop working yourself up," she said, slapping his arm gently. "It'll be nice to meet all your friends." 

With that, they all made their way to the glittery abomination Arnold had created whilst they'd been away. 

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To be fair to Arnold, it hadn't been  _that_ much glitter, at least not as much as the horizon shot would suggest. Yes, there had been a musical performance, but luckily it didn't have anything to do with fucked frogs and Joseph Smith dying of dysentery, so it was a significant improvement on last time. Kevin's parents had gracefully greeted everyone, and Sandra had gushed to Kimbay about her glorious stew, asking her for the recipe. She had insisted on helping Connor wash up, which was why the two of them were now alone in the outhouse washing dishes, soap suds floating to the floor. 

Connor had been building up the courage to ask this question ever since Michael had mentioned it, but he hadn't wanted to ask it when Kevin was around. He felt like this was the time. He cleared his throat, and Sandra turned to look at him. 

"Um, Sandra, ma'am, I was just wondering..." he managed to stutter out before his cheeks flamed and he had to look to the floor. 

"Spit it out, Connor, I don't bite," she said warmly, smiling at him. He gave her a small smile back. 

"Okay, erm, first of all, are you okay with gay people?" he blurted out shortly before slapping his hand over his mouth, his eyes widening. "Oh God, I didn't mean to say that you-" 

"I'm fine with homosexuality," she cut in, her grin growing even wider. "One of my own sons is gay and with a New York Jew. Love is love, isn't it? Heavenly Father made all of us in his own image, so that must mean he created some men to be with other men, right?" 

"I'm gay!" he shouted much louder than he meant to, covering his mouth again quickly. "Oh my God, I need to shut up." 

"Was there something else, dear?" Sandra asked, absent-mindedly drying a fork. 

"Erm, yes, actually," he said, going back to washing a plate. "I just wanted to know what Kevin's father meant when he said Kevin gets ill easily. Nothing was mentioned in his file." 

Sandra sighed heavily, placing the fork down gently and walking over to the small workbench, sitting down heavily. She patted the empty space next to her; Connor sat awkwardly next to her. 

"We are in the understanding that anything said from this point forward stays in this room, yes?" she said, giving him a serious look. Connor nodded frantically. "Kevin would murder me if he knew I was telling you this." 

"Yeah..." he mused before bouncing up and down a little. "Tell me anyway." 

"Well, when Kevin was born, he was a very early baby," she said. As Connor looked in her eyes, he saw pain washing through them, as fresh as if it had happened just now. She reached into the pocket of her flowery dress and pulled out a purse. Opening it up, she showed him a few pictures, Polaroids. The first one was of a tiny baby, with a man's hand next to it to show just how small it really was. The baby was surrounded by tubes and wires, and then it clicked in Connor's mind. 

"Is that..." he breathed, a hand resting over his mouth. 

"That's Kevin at 2 days old," she replied, moving the picture to the back of the stack. 

The next one was of a five-year-old Kevin sitting cross-legged on a hospital bed. You could tell immediately that it was Kevin, as he was now old enough to have the distinctive floppy dark hair and shining brown eyes. He had a oxygen cannula snaking its way round him to rest on his nose, but even so he was grinning cheesily, holding up a small toy that Connor couldn't quite make out. "He contracted pneumonia in the winter and had to be hospitalised for nearly two weeks." 

Next picture. Connor saw that it was taken at Kevin's beloved Orlando. All of the Prices were in this one- a 19-year-old girl, a 16-year-old boy who looked as of she'd rather be anywhere else, a girl and a boy aged 13 and 11, Kevin in the middle with Mickey's large glove resting on his shoulder, a 4-year-old boy, a 2-year-old who was at Michael Price's feet and lastly Sandra holding a little baby to her chest. Connor smiled, looking at the happy little family. 

"Kevin was obsessed with Orlando when he was first here," he said quietly. Sandra chuckled, nodding. 

"We never told him, but the only reason we went was because we were never sure if each summer was going to be Kevin's last," she admitted, stroking the edge of the faded picture with obvious loving. "Obviously he was one of the lucky ones." 

" _My family and friends all said I was blessed_ ," Connor murmured, finally understanding the true meaning behind those words he had thought were just Kevin Price being big-headed. "Did he have any idea?" 

"We never told him," Sandra said sorrowfully, tucking the precious photographs back into her purse. "We always said we would tell him when he was 18, but when the time came around we had no idea how to even approach it, so we just... didn't." 

There was a sudden creak at the door of the outhouse and Sandra stood up hurriedly, quickly wiping her eyes. Connor followed suite, going back to his now cold bowl of soapy water. 

"Hey, guys?" Kevin's voice drifted into the room, and his head soon appeared around the door. "We're just starting a game of truth or dare, and I know how much you love embarrassing Poptarts, Connor, so I thought you might want to join us?" 

Connor nodded, then he realised something. 

"Oh God," he murmured. 

"What?" 

"You left your father alone with Arnold..." 

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Why had he agreed to play truth or dare? 

Connor had made many poor decisions in his life, his stance of  _turn it off_ being just one, but playing truth or dare with a load of ex-Mormons, his crush, his crush's  _parents_ and a bunch of Africans had to be up there. 

Yep, Kevin's parents were playing. They insisted that  _we were young once too, y'know,_ and promised some surprises. If they were honest, that frightened both Connor and Kevin. 

"Okay, so normal rules apply," James Church announced. They were all sat cross-legged in a big circle on the floor, in true middle-school fashion. "You have to answer the truth slash complete the dare you are given, or you will have to perform a forfeit decided by the group, no questions asked. Understood?" 

They all nodded and murmured their assent. 

Poptarts went first, asking Elder Neeley something or other-none of them could remember. In fact, much of the game was forgotten, at least up until the point when Sandra pointed a finger at her son. 

"Truth or dare, son of mine?" she asked. She was a little tipsy on the "punch" Mafala had given her. Connor felt his cheeks heat up, already knowing the answer. 

"Dare!" Kevin replied confidently. "You don't scare me, Mother." 

Everyone was expecting something pansy, something boring and useless. What no-one had expected was: 

"You. Connor McKinley. Seven minutes in Heaven." 

There was a moment of silence before the screams of approval began in earnest. Then Connor found himself being shoved in a  _very_ small closet with Kevin Price, having Poptarts grin and give him a thumbs up, and the door was shut on them. 

It was almost pitch black, but even so Connor knew that Kevin was barely two feet away from him. 

"Hey," he whispered into the blackness. 

"Hi," Kevin murmured back. 

"I'm gay," Connor blabbed before he could stop himself. He almost heard Kevin's eyebrow quirk upwards. 

"I thought we'd established this," Kevin replied quietly. 

"I know, but... I've never actually said it, y'know?" 

"My Ma told me you told her." 

"Slipped out, yeah." 

"Don't worry, she loves LGBTQ stuff. She has a whole drawer for her Pride swag." 

Connor laughed at that. 

"For your brother?" 

"...and for me." 

Connor choked on air, plunging into a fit of coughing. 

"You're  _gay_!?" he screeched. He was laughing a little, but it was nervous laughter. Incredibly nervous laughter. 

"Bisexual, actually," Kevin said breezily. "But yeah. Ma says she doesn't care who I marry as long as they aren't like my brother's God-awful wife." 

"Are there any men you find... attractive?" Connor asked, his voice low and a little husky. 

"There is one..." Kevin replied, trailing off. "But I'm not sure if he'd like me back." 

"Tell him," Connor urged, feeling a little jealous of whoever that lucky guy was. "News flash: turning it off doesn't work. You need to tell people what you feel when you feel it. Trust me." 

Then Kevin's lips were on his, and a thousand suns exploded at once. He immediately began to kiss back, even if he was overwhelmingly surprised . For some reason, both of them still had their eyes open and the two giggling into the kiss. 

"Well that certainly was one way," Connor mumbled. Kevin made a face that said  _mm, I guess so._

"So, does he like me back?" Kevin asked. 

Connor answered by closing his eyes and kissing Kevin passionately. 

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"I'm  _bored_!" Elder Schrader complained, flopping his arms and legs on the sofa uselessly as if to prove his point. "How long has it been? A day? A month? A  _year_?" 

"Seven minutes, you dunce," Chris "Poptarts" Thomas replied, glancing around the room. "Think we should let them out yet?" 

"I'm curious to find out," Arnold shouted through a mouthful of popcorn, his arm around Naba's waist. 

"If you don't mind me asking, Mrs Price, why  _did_ you ask them to play the game?" Naba asked politely. 

"I could tell they liked each other," Sandra said, taking a sip of her drink. "And I know my son well enough to know he's too proud to say anything so I thought I'd... jog things along a bit." 

The group of 19-and-20 year-old boys froze, and then the chuckling began in earnest. James Church shook his head, going over to the closet and placing his hand on the door handle. He turned around to give the small crowd behind him a wink, and then opened the closet door. 

Connor and Kevin were tangled around each other, still kissing passionately. Connor's legs were straddling Kevin's hips, and their shirts were half-off. Apparently the light hitting them got into their eyes, and they stopped, slowly breaking apart. Their eyes cracked open, and they turned to the other Elders in unison. 

"Errr..." Kevin stuttered, smiling awkwardly. 

Poptarts closed the closet door. 

888888

Eventually, after a bit of coaxing from Connor and a lot of false promises about a certain jam-filled, sweet-iced pastry made, Poptarts allowed them to come out of the closet- both figuratively and literally. 

"So, um, we're gay," Connor said awkwardly. Kevin was clutching at his hand, trying to hide himself behind Connor (although the logic behind this method was flawed as Kevin was substantially taller). "Together. Obviously. Only just happened, actually. Errm... any questions?" 

Now,  _that_ was the worst decision Connor McKinley ever made. 

Of course, the room exploded with shouts and shrieks from every angle, wanting to know the ins and outs of every single aspect of their relationship. 

"Is Kevin a good kisser!?" 

"Is  _Connor_ a good kisser?" 

"You're gay!?" 

"Have you, y'know... done it yet?"

"Seriously!? This only just happened? Dammit, now I owe Mutumbo!" 

"Oh, I'm so happy for you boys!" (This was voiced by Kevin's mum.) 

"Since when is Kevin gay!?" 

"What the damn hell happened in that closet?" 

Kevin's father stepped forward, clearing his throat in an authoritarian manner. They all fell silent and the useless chatter died in the air, and it struck Connor that  _damn,_ this man had raised eight kids. Michael Price stepped towards Connor almost threateningly, and it took all of the redhead's courage for him not to step back. 

"Will you look after my son?" Michael asked, his voice low with an edge of a growl to it. Connor nodded frantically. 

"Yes sir." 

"Will you take good care of him, even when he gets annoying when he's sick?" 

"Hey!" Kevin protested, but bizarrely it was Arnold that pulled him away, giving him a whispered explanation of why he needed to stay out of this. 

"Yes sir," Connor said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

"Will you make sure he's happy?" 

"Of course, sir." 

"And most of all, do you promise never to break my son's heart." 

"I would never do that to Kevin, sir," Connor replied. Michael nodded at his wife, nodded and his son and pulled Connor into a manly hug. 

"Welcome to the family, son." 

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It was 3.a.m. 

People say that nothing good happens at 3.a.m. Kevin Price would beg to differ. The mission hut was still and silent, a tranquil peace that could never have existed in the daytime comfortably filling the air. There were a few insects buzzing around outside, but it was Uganda. That was always there. Everyone else was asleep, either in their beds or sprawled across varying surfaces. The Africans had headed home at around midnight, but Nabalungi had stayed behind with Arnold. They were snuggled together in Arnold's bed. Kevin Price, however, was sat in the window at the back of the hut which jutted out for no particular reason to create a nice, comfortable seat on the windowsill. He was clutching a mug of hot cocoa between fingers, gazing out of the window up at the stars. Connor was asleep on his shoulder, snuffling in his sleep and hanging half-off the ledge. Kevin allowed himself a smile, sipping his drink as he mentally mapped out constellations. 

As he looked over to the living room, his smile grew wider as he watched his parents asleep together on the sofa. He reminded himself that he had to call his siblings soon, having seen his parents making him miss his family more than ever. At least he had Connor know. He'd never expected him to like him back in a million years, and he couldn't resist gently kissing the top of Connor's head. 

It was 3.a.m, and Kevin knew he wasn't going to be having any hell dreams tonight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus Christ that ended up a lot longer than I expected. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this thing!


End file.
